personal6

Chapter 22

North of the North

Tyrion POV

It was a dark night. The wolves in the Wolfwood howled while the direwolf stayed silent. It fascinates me how quiet the white wolf can be. Even while eating, the wolf doesn't make any sound. It amazes me how such a beast can exist. Even if it scares me how it would be the last thing I never heard before, it killed me.

Well, the boy did reassure me that it wouldn't hurt me. Still, I would like to die to this wolf than to this damn cold. It was supposed to be summer, but I never was so close to the campfire as right now. The cold just seeps into my bones, no matter how thick my furs are.

"I know what you thinking," Ser Patrek tells me as he puts more wood to the fire. "You never truly get used to it, the cold. It always finds its way to you."

"It's not even that cold," The bastard says, and I, with Patrek, just stare at him. "What? It's not even snowing."

"Be quiet boy, if it starts snowing because of you, I will leave you at the Wall." Ser Patrek threatens the boy.

"And don't think you will be safe there from my wrath," I add and laugh with ser Patrek joining me.

"They are just summer boys, don't listen to them, boy," Yoren says.

The wandering crow is a hard and grim man. He has no patience for my or ser Patrek's japes. He has come to our caravan to check on the men joining the Night Watch. He didn't mince his words when he told us that we brought just summer boys, which won't be any use for at least a couple of years.

When the time to sleep came, I went back to my tent. Curling up inside, I light the lantern and take a book that I borrowed from Winterfell library. It was about the long night and the last hero. A grim story of a man who lost all his friends to the obsession of his goal. He ended the long night, but he was all alone to see it when the sun rose.

Maybe that is why there are no heroes anymore. When you save the world, all you get is the pain of the ones you lose on the way and nothing more. There is no happy ending for heroes, just a lonesome road ahead of them. Indeed a grim story it is.

…

The Wall was something that I won't ever forget. Massive didn't give it justice. It was an imposing sight that lets you truly know how small you are. You can't just look away from it. Even at the gates of Castle Black, I couldn't keep my eyes from it.

At the castle gates, we met Lord Commander Jeor Mormont and the First Ranger Benjen Stark. Jon ran to his uncle, who returned his welcoming hug. Jeor Mormont was an old but still imposing man. While Benjen Stark looked kind and relaxed, I could see the weariness in his eyes.

"Ser Patrek, I thank you for bringing these men so far to the North," Jeor Mormont thanks ser Patrek. "The rooms for you and your friends are prepared. If you would like to join us in the dining hall, we have a warm meal for you and yours."

"I would be delighted to join you," Ser Patrek replies. "Jon, take my stuff to my room, and you free to do as you wish."

"You must be Tyrion Lannister," Jeor says to me as Jon leaves with bags.

"What gave it away? My blonde hair or that I am dwarf?" I ask.

"The lion on your chest," Jeor answers.

"Lord Commander, I would like to have detailed information on what you have on the Wall," Ser Patrek interjects.

"Very well, we can speak at the dining table," Jeor tells us and start to lead us.

…

Even with steam coming from my soup, the cold didn't leave me. The hall was filled with people eating and drinking. I sat with men of the Watch joking and telling stories of my adventures to brothels. The common men laughed while those of higher status didn't take me well.

Ser Wymar Royce was one of those men. He was a proud man. Too serious if you asked me, but he wasn't the only one with better leather and cloak than others. Even if every man was equal, there was a distance between the high-born lords and low-born criminals. Well, it wasn't anything I cared for.

"Tyrion, come join us on the table," Ser Patrek calls me out.

I went and sat next to him. Jeor Mormont didn't seem to mind me, but Benjen Stark didn't look friendly at me. After joining them, Jeor Mormont continued to tell that he had five thousand men but not enough food to last the upcoming winter. Steel to arm them all, or gold to buy anything from the merchants.

"You always seemed to lack something," Ser Patrek comments.

"That how life is in there and with something stirring from the Beyond-the-Wall, I am concerned," Jeor says.

"Something stirring from Beyond-the-Wall?" I ask.

"The wildlings are gathering together. We keep losing rangers, and whenever we find some traces, a storm buries it," Benjen answers. "The wildlings we capture tells us of dead and monster hunting them."

"So snarks and grumkins are scaring the wildlings," I jape.

"It could be anything, Beyond-the-Wall the magic still exists," Jeor responds with a gruff voice. "It could be a new tribe with some lost magic that hunts others for one reason or another."

"It could be the Others that are coming back," Benjen adds. "It doesn't matter what it is. It scares the remaining wildlings to form an army and try to climb the Wall. Wich every hundred wildlings stopped, we lose a dozen men. And there a hundred thousand of them in there, if our reports are accurate."

"I believe you can count that we still don't have enough men to stop them all, and we still need to prepare from whatever it is that scared the wildling in the first place," Jeor continues.

"No need to scare us, Lord Commander, I will give this information to Lord Tully," Ser Patrek says.

"We are grateful for Riverlords' support, but we need other kingdom support too. That is the only way the Watch can survive the upcoming winter," Jeor comments.

"Well, there isn't much I can do with that," Ser Patrek replies.

"But you can, Tyrion," Jeor tells me. "Your sister is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and your father is Warden of the West."

"I see. You want me to convince them to send some support to the Watch," I reply, if only they knew that it would be almost impossible.

"Anything would be good. Steel or gold or grains would help us more than men right now," Jeor informs me.

"I will ask, but I don't promise you anything," I respond.

"That already is more than nothing," Jeor states.

After this talk, I went back to my room and then to my bed. I dreamed of the neverending night and dragons.

Jon POV

It was quiet and calm up there on the Wall. I could only look at the Haunted Forest, which stretched as long as my eye could see. It was north of the North. The true North, as the wildlings liked to call it.

"I hope the view hasn't captivated you too much," Benjen says, getting next to me.

"And what if it has?" I ask bitterly. "Maybe I should stay here?"

"Jon, this isn't the place for you," Benjen replies.

"Where is my place then?" I ask. Looking down to the forest again, I couldn't help but wonder.

"You are destined for better things," He answers.

"I heard some brother of the Watch talking about the things that they saw Beyond-the-Wall. If what they say is true, what would be a greater destiny than to stay here?" I ask, wondering.

"Most of them haven't would run from a bit of sound and then make some stories of seeing monsters. Don't listen to them," Benjen responds.

"I don't think that ser Waymar Royce is craven to run away from danger," I remark.

"He might not be craven, but he is still green boy, a prideful green boy," Benjen explains. "He wanted the honor of leading his first ranging like he was better than others. He might be one of the best fighters on the Wall, but when it comes to raging, he knew little to nothing and still knows only that much. He would have died in that storm if Gared hadn't pulled him back. So no, he isn't a craven but a fool who thinks he knows better."

"He said that Gared was worried about more than just a storm," I inquire.

"If cold didn't kill them, it would be an ambush of wildlings or wild animals," He tells me. "It was better to leave than risking their lives. It was not worth it."

"You should listen to your uncle, boy," Tyrion tells me after coming closer. "The Wall will stand for thousands of years. I think it will still stand after you be knighted and old men."

"You still a boy, Jon," Benjen adds. "You are a squire. First be knighted, then travel the Seven Kingdoms, see everything you can. When you feel like you saw enough, come there, and I will be waiting for you."

"Don't worry, ser Patrek would not let me go that quickly either. He likes to torment me too much," I agree with them.

There are still many things to do, to see before I left everything behind to chase some legends.

…

It has been more than a week since we arrived at the Wall. Patrek has finished his job of bringing supplies to the Watch. While Tyrion has taken a piss from the top of the Wall. Now both of them are ready and eager to get out of this cold. And so I was here in maester's chambers looking for Tyrion.

Tyrion was by the fire looking through the books. Chet had explained to me that Tyrion looking for the books about the long night and white walkers. Now that I think about Tyrion always is reading something. And so I asked him after getting his attention.

"Look at me and tell me what you see," Tyrion responds.

"It's some kind of a trick. I see you, Tyrion Lannister," I reply truthfully.

"You are remarkably polite for a bastard, Snow. What you see is a dwarf," Tyrion sighs.

"And?" I ask, not getting what he's talking about.

"My legs are short and twisted, and I walk with difficulty. I require a special saddle to keep from falling off my horse. A saddle of my own design, you may be interested to know. It was either that or ride a pony. My arms are strong enough, but again, too short. I will never make a swordsman." Tyrion explains. "I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. A mind that needs books as a sword needs a whetstone if it is to keep its edge. That is why I read, Jon Snow."

"What are you reading?" I ask, feeling embarrassed.

"Some about the Others, some about the dragons," He replies.

"What good is that?" I ask, wondering.

"Who knows? With the talks going around the brother of the Watch, maybe the Others will come back, and then people will like to know about them. And it would so happen that I read about, wouldn't that make me an important man?" Tyrion responds. "Well, you come to find me for something other than talk about my books, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes. Ser Patrek said that he is prepared to depart and is waiting for you," I quickly informed him.

"I see. Tell ser Patrek that I will soon find him," He tells.

And so I was going back to repeat it to ser Patrek, like an errand boy. Well, that was my life for five years already. I can only hope to be knighted sooner than later.

Edmure POV

The Crownlands were land of woods, orchards, and neatly tended fields. We passed many small villages, market towns, and stout holdfasts. Still, a couple of days north from the King's Landing, I found the girls with septa Mordane. Sansa seemed to enjoy stitching, but Arya was struggling to decide if put the needle into the fabric or into septa's eyes.

"Girls come, it is time for your lessons on politics," I tell them.

Both of them whined at me. Even Arya didn't know what was worse, the stitching or my lessons. I didn't want them to learn of the darker side of the world just yet, but the King's Landing is near, and it is better they understand at least a bit.

"Sit down. We have a long evening today," I tell the girls. "Today, I will see what you have learned."

"Why do we have to learn about this?" Arya grumbles.

"Because both of you are little fools, that made a joke of house Stark and Tully," I answer. "The first question is, if your father was found guilty of treason, what would you do?"

"Father would never betray the King," Sansa answers.

"Good, you know the truth. If your father would never betray the King, it means the King betrayed him." I add. "So, after knowing this, what are you going to do?"

"Why would the King do something like this?" Sansa asks, confused.

"Good, you question the motive of the King. Arya, would you like to guess the motive?" I ask.

"Because they are an arse," She answers.

"Fine, let's say they are an arse. What do you think will happen next?" I continue to ask.

"Father would prove this innocence, and the King would apologize to him," Arya replies without thinking.

"No, your father would be killed, and while both of you are going to blame each other, the King would take you hostage. Your brother would have to go to King's Landing to save you. The war would break then. The Riverlands would center the conflict, and farms and holdfasts would burn. No matter who would win, you two would be raped, Arya killed. If Robb lost then, Sansa would be forced to marry a loyal to the crown lord so they could get control of Winterfell," I explain to them. "But if after you heard of your father's predicament you worked together and ran away, the King would have no choice but to keep your father alive as a hostage. Your brother wouldn't have to worry if, by winning this battle, he has condemned both of you to suffer."

Both girls didn't speak. Sansa looked pale and scared. While Arya looked angry and outraged. Both knew that it was just one of my hypothesizes. I kept telling them of those whenever our lessons started. Stories of what would happen. Sometimes I tell them what would happen if their brothers died, sometimes what would happen if Theon would take Winterfell, and so on.

It was the best method to make them listen to what others have said and never fight against their own family. The grim possibilities that I present to them let them know that bigger things are happening than just their minor squabbles.

A.N. 

Alek Sands - Sorry but I can't find the picture if you would kindly write the link to my Pm, I would appreciate it a lot.

Force Smuggler - And I tried to be subtle about it. Seems I need to do better.

Kuman - First time I read the books, I thought it was based on the Roman Empire, as I knew nothing of the war of the roses. And I am glad that someone understands my thoughts.

jean d'arc - That the plan, to provoke them. And now that I think about it, I have to agree with the things you said about Sansa. But it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

The Lion's Pride - Oh, there will be butterflies, and when the action begins, they will be everywhere.